Love's Keen Sting
by VfangzV
Summary: Remember that scene in "The Half-Blood Prince" when Ron mutters Hermione's name instead of Lavender's while half-unconscious in the Hospital Wing and Lavender runs out crying? Well, this story is a sic fic on what could have happened next... p.s. "Love's Keen Sting" is a quote from Dumbledore commenting on the love triangle during this scene.


Lavender ran out of the Hospital Wing, sobbing wildly. How could he? They barely ever talked to each other! She must be obsessed with him! That must be it. That crafty witch had been working on poor, sick Won-Won, trying to seduce him! "H..Hermione…" Ron's helpless stammer rang in Lavender's ears as hot tears stung her face. She clenched her fists. "You'll pay for this, Hermione," she seethed, "you'll pay for this."

Nearly a half-hour had passed since Ron had clutched at a sliver of consciousness, since he had whispered her name… He opened his bleary eyes slowly, gazing languidly around the room. "Where are we?" he asked, sitting up and holding Hermione's arm for support. "We're… you're in the Hospital Wing." She held her breath. A thought screamed out from the back of her mind. Would he ask about Lavender? Ron laid back down as the memory of the previous days returned. He closed his eyes and swallowed. "Are you alright?" asked Hermione. "Spinning…" said Ron, moving his hand over his face, "gonna be sick-" Thinking quickly, Hermione grabbed a bedpan from the tray next to the bed and held it under Ron's mouth. He leaned forward and coughed, still holding her arm. She did her best to keep steady as Ron shook violently. She gave him water, and soon his stomach settled. Hermione helped him lay back down and held his hand as he drifted back to sleep.

Lavender stopped for a moment before entering the dark hallway. She hid behind a pillar and hiked up her skirt, undid another button on her blouse and freed her hair from its braided confinement. Most girls at Hogwarts didn't wear makeup, but Lavender kept a little tube of lip gloss in her pocket for emergencies. Around here, plump, shimmery pink lips really stood out. Lavender strutted forward, right into Filch's path. He automatically started snarling, but his voice faltered as she moved into the harsh glow of his lantern. "What are you… doing up here… girl," he said, swinging the light up to see her face. "Who, me?" she said in an even higher-pitched voice than her own. "I need to get into Professor Slughorn's potions cabinet." "Oh yeah," he croaked, his mouth curling up at one side, "what the 'ell for?" he took a step toward her. His rotten teeth and foul breath nauseated her, but she had to play along. "I forgot to… um…" she hadn't planned any further than seducing Filch into letting her through. His piercing eyes scanned her up and down as he waited for an answer.

The girl huffed and rolled her eyes. "If you really want to know, Mr. Filch, there's a slag who's done me wrong and I want to brew something up to teach her a lesson." Filch crept closer. "Argus likes 'em fiery…" he inched his wrinkled fingers along a strand of her hair. His eyelids sank slowly as he inhaled Lavender's sweet scent. She shuddered and shut her eyes. Suddenly a shrill, creaky "meow" tore through the silence and woke Filch from a reprehensible fantasy. "Argh, alright," he grumbled, stepping back and glaring down at Mrs. Norris. Lavender looked down to see the old cat carrying a dead rat in her mouth. The carcass was dripping with blood. Lavender's stomach turned. She followed Filch to the supply closet. "Alright, girl, go on," he said, unlocking the door for Lavender and turning to leave. As soon as the door closed, she gagged in disgust.

Lavender had never been in the potions closet before, but she had heard that it once belonged to creepy Professor Snape. She turned away from the shelves, horrified. She knew if she stared at those jars of floating animal parts, pickled eyeballs and slimy solutions she wouldn't be able to hold back from vomiting on the stone floor of this restricted area. "Don't be sick, don't be sick," thought Lavender. She didn't have time for this; in three hours, Madam Pomfrey would shoo all the visitors out of the Hospital Wing, and Hermione would go back to their dormitory… "Come on Lav," she whispered, "just get what you need and get the hell out of here!"

Hermione sat up slowly, struggling to get up. She looked around the room; the other girls had already left. Hermione saw the clock and shook her head. Strange; It wasn't like her to sleep in later than the others, Sunday or not. Hermione tried to stand... 'I don't feel so well,' she thought, a wave of dizziness bringing her head back down onto her pillow. No! She couldn't be sick. She had to go see Ron. By sheer force of will, Hermione got to her feet. As soon as she did, a wave of nausea made her legs weak. She dropped to her knees and dragged a wastebasket over. She moaned and pressed a hand to her mouth, lowering her head. Her other hand held back her long brown waves

"This has to be a spell. I wouldn't get sick this quickly," she told herself. If this was caused by a spell, she was confident she could reverse it. Hermione placed a hand on her knee to help herself pull herself up. "Oh, no…" she muttered before running into the bathroom and leaning over the sink. Hermione quickly turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her face to keep herself from being sick. She looked at her pale, frightened reflection. Right before her eyes, her color returned and the sick feeling dissipated. "It has to be a spell," she said again, her hand on her forehead. Hermione was already late to see Ron, but she wasn't about to visit him in her pajamas. The silly thought made her smile. She went over to open the chest at the foot of her bed

Her fingers ran along the different fabrics. She had just chosen a soft sweater when she started to feel queasy again. "What's the matter with me?!" she uttered faintly, pulling the wastebasket to her bedside. Hermione decided to lie down for a minute- as soon as her head touched the pillow, she felt she was about to be sick and leaned over the edge of her bed. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, grabbing a handful of clean tissues. She sat up and wiped her face, dabbing away beads of sweat. Hermione managed to stand up again. She picked up her clothes, walked to the bathroom, and stopped.

"This isn't right," she said, shaking her head, "When I lie down, I start to feel worse-" Hermione's eyes widened. She ran over to her bed and threw off her pillow. She picked up what had been hidden between the mattress and the headboard. It was a small, black, velvet pouch, stuffed to the brim. Hermione had read about these kind of 'portable curses' before. This particular one was tied with a ribbon the color of… "Lavender," she whispered, crushing the pouch inside a trembling fist.

"Estomorbus!" yelled Hermione, swiftly cornering Lavender into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and shutting the door. Hermione's gaze remained fixed on a bewildered Lavender. "Hermione," she exclaimed breathlessly, "what are you doing?" Hermione kept her wand aimed at the girl and stepped forward. She took the emptied black pouch out of her pocket and threw it at Lavender. "I believe this is yours," said Hermione angrily. "I've never seen that before in my life," retorted Lavender artificially. A sick feeling crept up into Lavender's stomach. Was it nerves from getting caught? "You liar!" said Hermione, moving the wand once up and down. Lavender doubled over and clapped her hand over her mouth. It felt like the contents of her stomach had just surged upward, then back down, following the direction Hermione's wand. "No," said Lavendar, "please…"

"Not very pleasant, is it?!" Hermione shouted. "Now might be a good time to confess, in case you aren't exactly sure-" Hermione moved the wand up a bit, "-what you ought to be doing at the moment." She gave the wand a little twist…. "Fine, yes, it was me!" admitted Lavender, "but I only did it to save Ron because you've been tricking him into thinking he wants you!" "Listen, you twit," snapped Hermione, "My name was the one he said in the Hospital, and no amount of _elementary_ magic," she emphasized, kicking the black pouch to the side, "is going to change that. Do you understand?"

Lavender's bottom lip trembled. "Yes! Alright; just please don't make me be sick! If you move it even one bit I know I'll-" Lavender coughed. Hermione reversed the spell and retracted her wand. She put her arm under Lavender's to help steady her. Soon they were both upright, facing each other. There was a moment of tense silence."I'm sorry!" they both exclaimed at once. Another wordless exchange of glances passed between them before Hermione said "Why don't we go check on Ron…" Lavender nodded, "...and not breathe a single a word about this to him," added Hermione. "Agreed," said Lavender. The girls shook on it and started walking. "So, about that spell bag ," said Hermione as they left to visit Ron, "how did you manage to get past Filch for the ingredients in the potions closet?"

The END


End file.
